Avenging Father
by Jade Symphony
Summary: One shot. Draco avenges his father's death. Set in the same world as Wedding Charade.


**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize from the _Harry Potter_ books and movies do not belong to me!

**Author's Note:** This one shot belongs in the same world as my story, _Wedding Charade_. For those of you who follow _WC_, this snapshot takes place five years prior and provides some small insight as to what happened during the war that helped to shape Draco's character. It's melodramatic in tone because I happened to be in that sort of mood at the time when I wrote it. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Sometimes Draco Malfoy felt that he had too much time to think. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes, he fell back against his bed and forced himself to try and get a couple of hours of sleep. But his mind was swirling and the past rose up to meet him again. He hated war. He hated the maelstrom of emotions that were permanently lodged in his soul.

There were times when he missed being the spoiled, self-assured brat with no cares in the world other than trying to outdo Harry Potter in everything. But then his father was stupid enough to get caught. His idol, who had been a spy for a mere three days, was not clever enough to get out of a sticky situation and got caught...by Wormtail of all things!

There was some small comfort in the fact that the killing spell was supposed to be painless. He could feel the first signs of a migraine and wearily wondered whether it would be worth it to go and find a headache potion to alleviate the worst of the pain. A bang on the door frame had him instantly on alert, but he saw that it was just another junior Order member.

"Hey Draco, I'm grabbing something from the kitchens. You want anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks for the offer." The kid sounded a little nervous and kept glancing at Draco's arm, which was covered by his long robes. So Draco gritted his teeth and took the extra effort to sound friendly. It must have worked, since the boy's shoulders relaxed as he nodded and left silently. It probably would have been easier to just show his bloody arm and prove to everyone that it was mark-free. But Draco refused to give anyone the satisfaction. His actions should be more than enough for anybody.

Draco cast a couple of charms and the room instantly darkened and cooled. Through the silence, he could hear nothing but the sound of the rain outside. It made him think of the first time he, Potter, and Weasley had come to any sort of understanding. It was several months ago, and he recalled sitting in a cave with Potter and Weasley as they waited out the storm outside. Granger had gone to get supplies just before the storm broke and Weasley was tensely waiting for word back. Draco was in a very bad place emotionally, having just come from the death of his father. Devastated by the loss of her life partner, his mother had pulled away from the world, leaving Draco to feel very much alone in his grief.

Draco had no concern for the storm and would have eagerly taken his chances out there if there was even a miniscule chance that he could find his father's murderer in one of the many caves surrounding the rocky cliff. "Malfoy, don't be an arse! You can't go out there. Wait until Hermione gets back. You'd have to be bloody stupid to think you can find anything in this storm," Ron yelled at him as Harry held Draco back with both arms.

"He's out there! Don't you see? I'm close, I can finally..." Draco let his voice fade as words failed him. Wormtail was still out there somewhere, and Draco vowed to himself that the twisted little rodent would not leave this world just as easily.

The hand on his arm tightened. "Malfoy," Harry said, "we'll get them. You'll get him. Wormtail's not going anywhere. I granted him mercy once, but he won't get it again." Draco relaxed slightly at that, and nodded. He agreed to wait.

Draco recalled finding Wormtail and torturing him with the Cruciatus curse, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to do physical damage to the worthless creature. Hermione Granger arrived, then, and managed to convince Draco to give Wormtail some veritaserum and draw out as much information as they could from Wormtail before he met his final end. Angry at the logic, Draco cast one more Cruciatus before letting Granger have her way.

So they took him to a room, and Wormtail told them everything. What was left of the Order of Phoenix discovered Voldemort's likely locations and the times when he would likely be most vulnerable. And Draco discovered the weeks-long plot by Voldemort to destroy Lucius Malfoy. Voldemort suspected Malfoy of duplicity long before Lucius had even considered the action, and had planned Lucius' death accordingly. What little satisfaction Draco found in killing off Wormtail was curtailed by the agony of never truly avenging his father's death. His father's true murderer was still out there, safe. Even with the lead, it seemed hopeless that they could ever destroy Voldemort.

Someone cast a lumos spell in the room and Draco instantly opened his eyes. It was the same junior Order member. Draco still couldn't recall his name, but that didn't matter now. "Malfoy! Draco! It's him, we've got V-Voldemort!" Draco was out of the door in seconds. Alastor Moody was just outside the door, debriefing him as they walked down the corridor to Voldemort's temporary prison. Draco nodded, thanked him, and walked inside.

Draco Malfoy cut across the room in long, even strides. The flapping of his robes as they trailed behind him was not nearly as impressive as Severus Snape on a bad day, but for Malfoy, it was impressive enough. There before him was his enemy, the one who destroyed his family and made a mockery of the Malfoy name. And finally, Draco would have his revenge.

As planned, the magic-draining chains were wrapped tightly around what was left of Voldemort's limbs and kept him attached to the bed of thorns at his back. Draco smirked and watched as Riddle held back a plea for mercy. "You killed my father, and now I will destroy you."

"No wait, you can't. There's still time for you to turn back from his act of idiocy," Lord Voldemort said between gasps of breath.

Draco's gaze hardened. "The only act of idiocy I see is that you're still alive."

"You think so, do you? Well consider this: I am the only one able to keep your mother alive." Voldemort laughed. "You didn't think the horcruxes were my only line of defense, do you?"

"My mother is safe. Your lies will get you nowhere."

This time it was Voldemort who smirked. "If she's so safe, why won't her heart beat on its own? Why won't she wake up from her coma? Why has she been kept at Mungo's for the past year?"

"You and your minions will be dust when I'm through with you!" Draco vowed. He lifted his wand and aimed it at Voldemort's black heart. But before he could say anything more, the wand was knocked from his hand and Blaise Zabini landed on top of him.

"You can't, Draco! It's got to be Potter or else Riddle's just going to come back again, and we can't afford to waste so much time," Zabini whispered furiously.

"Coward!" Voldemort sneered. "You don't have the guts to do a simple task yourself. Must you wait for a Gryffindor to do everything for you?"

Angry, Draco punched the rocky, uneven ground, leaving his knuckles bloody and likely fracturing a bone somewhere from the force of the blow. "All right, fine. We'll wait for precious Potter. But if he doesn't get on with it, I'll kill him myself and screw the consequences."

Draco and Blaise left the compound, leaving a team of aurors headed by Moody to watch over Voldemort. The two entered the war room, where all important business was discussed.

"You should do something about that hand," Blaise remarked as he took a seat. His comment was ignored.

"You just got back in from the field, haven't you? So what news?" Draco grabbed some water and landed heavily in a chair. Blaise had been a part of a team of wizards led by Potter, Granger, and Weasley who had gone on a research expedition nearly a month ago. They had left to follow a lead on the best way to completely destroy Voldemort's link to the world. Draco had been impatiently waiting for word ever since. Blaise must have returned back with news after hearing of the capture.

"Granger's found some ancient spell that will transfer the horcrux from Harry to someone else. We've got a volunteer who's agreed to be destroyed. He's old, suffering from a magical-based disease with no cure. We told him the pain will be worse the Cruciatus, but he says he's in so much pain, more won't matter."

"So? What's the wait?" Draco asked impatiently. They got a volunteer. Good. One less obstacle in the way.

"But it takes three days to complete the first stage of the spell and then another two weeks to recuperate from that before the second stage can begin," Zabini interjected. "We found all the elements we need, but can't begin stage one for maybe another two days."

"Two days? What's the wait? The full moon is tonight. Most ancient magic follows the lunar cycle," Draco snapped.

"How should I know? I'm not the expert on ancient texts. I just follow orders," Zabini countered. He sighed. "I think Granger said something about the volunteer's magic levels aligning with something or other. Merlin, I'm tired. Is there an empty bed around here?"

Draco grunted. "Take Bunk 3. Longbottom went home to bury his grandmother."

There was a respectful moment of silence after that statement before Zabini got up from the hard bench and wearily trudged in the direction Draco indicated.

.oOoOo.

The old man died with a smile of pain, but there was no time to grieve. Harry had a job to do and no one left to help him carry the load. Unexpectedly, a strike of lightning lit the sky followed by the loud explosion of thunder. Voldemort was here five hours earlier than expected. There was no time to follow with Phase III of the plan. Black rain pelted the earth. But no – it was some blood-like substance that hit them like acid. Screams of pain from those who didn't shield in time filled the air. Harry slipped in a pool of something and lost his footing.

Draco pulled Harry up and pushed him forward in impatience. "What are you waiting for? He's right there. Get to it! I'll give you a distraction." Harry nodded and ran off. Draco pointed his wand and uttered a spell that should have lit the night sky with fireworks, providing the diversion Harry would need to go after Voldemort. But no, it didn't work. Why the hell didn't it work? His wand was useless and he didn't know why. Draco wanted to break something in frustration, but looking around, there was nothing left to break.

Bellatrix laughed not five feet away. "Having trouble, nephew? Don't worry, my wand still works. But just to make sure, let's test it out. _Crucio!_"

Malfoy involuntarily screamed in pain, but the spell was abruptly cut off. Muscles still spasming, he watched Bella fall under Neville's killing curse. Neville then raised his wand to provide Harry with the distraction Draco couldn't provide. Less than 60 seconds later, Voldemort was dead, and so were most of his followers. Neville turned toward Draco to smile in victory, but not before he was struck by a stray spell cast by a deatheater's wand. The deatheater was subdued, but it was too late for Neville.

Draco had no words for the shock of Longbottom's death. It hurt to care and he hated that he cared so much about Neville's death. He carefully closed Neville's eyes and before standing up. Draco's wand abruptly gave a spark in his wands, lit by Draco's _lumos_. Funny that his wand chose to work now. He could feel someone's approach.

"Malfoy-" Harry began, struggling for the right words.

But Draco pushed him away. It hurt too much to care about people right now. Look where it got Longbottom, who had likely saved Draco's mind if not his life not five minutes ago. "Save it, Potter. Being on the same side does not make us friends," Draco snapped. "You don't owe me anything, and the same goes for me. Stay out of my life. It's over." With that, Malfoy apparated away, not waiting for Harry's response.

Harry watched in shock and anger as Draco disappeared permanently from their side. The worst of the war had ended and Draco Malfoy obviously considered his job done. Ron approached Harry, limping. He shook his head, the a mixture of anger and unsurprised resignation evident on his face. "I thought we'd become comrades. Guess I was wrong, hey Harry?"

Harry turned away. "Let's go. We've got more work to do." Ron fell into step beside his best friend. From a distance, Hermione stopped looking for the injured among the dead to watch Draco disappear from their lives.

.oOoOo.

The cleanliness and silence of the small private hospital in France contrasted sharply with the war zone Draco had just left. He felt awkward and wondered whether he should have stopped for a shower and change of clothes first. The healer in charge still allowed him inside and he watched his beautiful mother as she carefully settled into a chair. Her window had a nice view of the gardens outside.

Draco slowly approached and carefully sat down. "Is it over? Is it finally over?" Narcissa whispered she reached for her son's hands.

Draco swallowed and placed his palm in hers. "Father's death has been avenged."

Narcissa smiled through a haze of tears. "Your father would be pleased." Draco let himself cry. And they both sat there, watching the gardens outside.


End file.
